


reclaimed

by ribbonista



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6881893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonista/pseuds/ribbonista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soldier: 76 and Reaper reunite in an abandoned Overwatch hub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reclaimed

**Author's Note:**

> this is gay y'all. anyways here's some shitty dads

The silence of the empty base was nearly deafening. It loomed in the empty hallways and hung across the dusty emblems of the Overwatch like drapes, decorating the abandoned hub with memories that Soldier: 76 would really rather forget.

The empty Overwatch hub was simply one of the many stops on his way, and this one, decrepit and dirty, was no different than any other place he had broken into. As he walked, Soldier: 76's echoing footsteps bounced around the dark, shadowed halls until he entered a large, open room, covered in decaying and rusting machines. The only source of light was from a low row of windows on the far side of the large hall, letting in a few sparse sunbeams from their cracked and dirty surfaces. Even though Overwatch had only been abandoned for a few years, the building was already being reclaimed by nature, and sprigs of plants wormed their ways across the non-functioning technology. 

Soldier: 76 brisked his pace and clomped heavily, deeper into the building. With his pulse rifle drawn lazily over his shoulder, he began to examine each and every piece of machinery that lay dormant in the dusky hall. He drew a gloved finger across the grime that lay heavily across their surfaces, before moving on. The militant grunted, before moving on, looking for something- _anything_ \- salvageable. 

He sighed angrily into the mask that covered his face and drew himself further into the gloom of the abandoned hall- the trip to the empty Overwatch building seemed to be a bust, and there was nothing useful for him to take for himself. With a noise of tiredness, Soldier: 76 lurched and sat heavily down on one of the abandoned terminals, reaching up to rub his temples. The emptiness did nothing but make the man relive memories of his glory days he rather would not remember.

Before he could even shake the thoughts out of his head, one of the machines exploded dangerously close to him with shrapnels of metal flying about. Soldier: 76 dived out of the way, before another machine burst into bits- the white-haired man was being _shot_ at. His pulse rifle found its way into his gloved hands and he aimed down the sight to find the source, but saw nothing in the murky blackness of the empty grand hall. Another bullet whizzed by dangerously close to the soldier's ear and he dived behind one of the large machines that sat heavy and fat, shielding him until it'd be inevitably shot at.

He peered around the edge of the machine to try and find the person who was assailing him, but something was _wrong_ \- off. It couldn't've been the government, the military manhunting him down. The hall was still as silent, and he couldn't pick up any heat traces of multiple people.

Before Soldier: 76 could even finish his thought, something heavy had barreled into him- how!? He had seen nor heard anybody approach him, but he grappled and wrangled with the heavy form desperate to unarm him. As they rolled into a halt, the assailant sat heavily on Soldier: 76's stomach- the sound of guns being cocked echoed around the empty hall as Soldier: 76 aimed his pulse rifle into the face of his attacker, and a black gun in each hand of the figure looming above him were pointed straight back.

In silence, the two sat like this, neither pulling the trigger, until the low, husky laugh of Reaper sounded out from between his silver-masked face.

“So even a date old man like you still has a little _bite_ to him.” The black-clad terrorist said, his voice strained by the skull covering his face. Soldier: 76 sneered, though his own cover prevented the man sitting on him from seeing. The militant's body tense and he jammed his gun further into Reaper's face, but the cool metal of the barrels of the shotguns pressed in an unnerving manner into the sides of Soldier: 76's head.

“Leave.” The militant didn't ask, he _commanded_ , but the unflinching and unmoving form of Reaper above him showed that the terrorist had no intentions of listening to him. The soldier growled low. “I said leave. You have no business here, _Gabriel_.”

The name caused Reaper to recoil slightly before the barrels of the twin shotguns were shoved roughly back into Soldier: 76's head.

“And what business do _you_ have snooping around, old man? Aren't you aware you're past your due?”

The retort caused Soldier: 76 to twist, hauling his body over and throwing Reaper off of him. As he tumbled, the soldier pounced, but the form of the terrorist evaporated and the Soldier hit the ground _hard_. As he scrambled to his feet to once more reclaim the heavy gun that had fallen from his hands when he had twisted his body, his arm was grabbed and twisted painfully behind his back. When he felt Reaper solidify behind him and reach his other hand around to roughly grab Soldier: 76's chin, he realized he was entirely at the mercy of the black-clad terrorist. At least, the militant thought, his mind racing, if Reaper's hands were busy pinning him down, he couldn't shoot him with those frightening black shotguns.

The hiss of Gabriel behind him caused a growl to catch in Soldier: 76's throat. 

“Look at you like this, _Jack_. You're weak. You should have _never_ been chosen over me- do you understand that?” Reaper snapped, jerking Soldier: 76's head to the side. From the corners of his eyes, the militant could see the cold and unfeeling skeletal mask of his assailant. 

“You'll never get it, Gabriel. What you're doing right now is the reason you were never chosen to be the commander of Overwatch.” 

Reaper twisted Soldier: 76's arm even more painfully behind his arm, causing strain in his ligaments- but Jack refused to submit, to show pain. He refused to give Reaper what he wanted.

“ _You_ should have _died._ ” Reaper hissed, his hand sliding down from Soldier: 76's chin to his throat, gloved hands grasping uncomfortably tight. “I should have done away with you while I had the chance.”

The militant sighed angrily into the mask covering his face. “You could have been so much more than hatred, Gabriel.” He said curtly, feeling the hand around his neck clutch tighter. “You could have been so much more than my _enemy._ ”

In the gloom, Soldier: 76 could swear he felt the chest pressed against his back hold it's breath, before the hand clawed around his throat moved slowly down to his chest in a moment of hesitance. Yet, even though Reaper, for this fleeting moment, showed weakness, the militant couldn't bring himself to move to try and disarm the man holding him back. Instead, he began to speak once more.

“You were so blinded by your own rage, Gabriel. You were important to Overwatch. To the world. To _me_. But when you started to hate me, I started to hate you back.”  
The silence overwhelmed the two of them as he finished. No sound came from Reaper, but his grip on the arm twisted behind Soldier: 76's back didn't relinquish. Instead, the hand that had moments ago tried to choke Jack slid down his torso and to the belt of his pants, fumbling to slide the leather strip that held his ammunition away from the front of the militant's pants. He began to protest, fumbling out a gruff, “Gabr-” before he was cut off by Reaper's hiss.

“Speak and die.”

But the threat was empty, and his hand was slipping into the soldier's trousers, and Jack was sure he didn't want Reaper- no, _Gabriel_ \- to remove himself in the first place. 

The black-clad terrorist wasted no time in beginning to rub the front of the soldier's underwear, a slightly hitched breath escaped through the filter of Soldier: 76's mask. This was the last thing he had expected to come from this fight, but he'd be lying to himself if he said that as he wandered through the decrepit, empty halls of this Overwatch base, of hundreds, his thoughts were not drawn to the good times he had spent with the man he had grown in the military with, flooded with memories of his best friend. 

Of Gabriel smiling, happy, diligent and encouraged.

Slowly, the two of them sank to the floor, Soldier: 76 sitting between the squatting form of Reaper, who was still silent. The black glove yanked the soldier's briefs and trousers enough that chill of the cool, stagnant air of the abandoned hub on his half-hard cock caused Soldier: 76 to grunt.

His arm was still twisted behind his back, but the form of Reaper felt, despite all odds, strangely comforting, and though his shotguns were pressed to Soldier: 76's head merely minutes ago, the way Reaper had gently leaned forward to rest his chin on the militant's shoulder was even _endearing_.

Reaper gently began to pump Jack up and down, hand firm but not tight, and Jack's breathing through the mask hitched now and then. The strange and rough material of the gloves adorning Gabriel's hand caused an odd sensation, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant, and he rubbed his thumb across the head of Jack's dick and smeared the liquid that began to form. With a tingle down his spine, Soldier: 76 idly wondered if this was how Reaper treated himself.

Still though, Reaper seemed oblivious to Soldier: 76's delirious thoughts, and remained silent and looming from behind his old friend. The shallow, labored breaths of Soldier: 76 through the face mask made embarrassing, unnerving echoes in the dilapidated chamber of the hub, and eventually, the soldier breathed out a low and husky, “ _Gabe_...”

Reaper's pace quickened, jerking off Jack with a tighter, more deliberate grip. Through the filter of the skeletal mask, shining silver in the gloom, he broke his silence softly with a quip of “Do it.” and Soldier: 76's free hand- that he had nearly forgotten was unpinned in the first place- reached over atop Reaper's own, and Soldier: 76 breathed out heavily, and Reaper sped his pace up, and Jack grunted low, and Gabriel released some of the tension on Jack's pinned arm and Jack came with a drawn out drawl of Gabriel's name and Gabriel finished him off with a few quick tugs.

Relaxing after his tension, the Soldier sagged into the warm chest of Reaper behind him, ignoring the low, dull ache in his arm, still being held behind him. His exhaled out of his nose, turning his scarred visage to the ebony terrorist behind him. He was caught off guard, however, when Reaper leaned forward, and the sound of metal clinking together resounded softly.

The lower part of Reaper's mask collided gently with the mouth area of Soldier: 76's own, and Jack was stunned into silence. They stayed there for a few moments, before Reaper pulled away and hissed out a less-menacing-than-he-must-have-intended, “Don't get your hopes up, old man. The next time I see you, you'll _die_.”

Then the terrorist exploded into a gritty, black mist, swirling around Soldier: 76's form and whisking away, out of the building. Before he knew it, Jack was once again completely and utterly alone in the abandoned Overwatch hub. He waited until he could regulate his breathing, watching where Reaper had left in an almost dreamlike manner, then tucked himself away and stood on slightly weak legs, rubbing his sore shoulder.

Though he needed nothing from the building, the hulking machinery sitting fat and useless to him, Soldier: 76 found he couldn't leave the area quite yet. 

There were a few more memories he'd like to relive before he left.


End file.
